


love sticks, sweat drips

by septmars



Category: Bad Blood - Taylor Swift (Music Video)
Genre: Blood, F/F, Fist Fights, Minor Violence, Punching, Rough Kissing, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 06:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6041941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/septmars/pseuds/septmars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Knockout's name suits her in more than one way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love sticks, sweat drips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saintlysinner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintlysinner/gifts).



> For saintlysinner, who wants a "kiss with a fist"-style Catastrophe/Knockout.

Before the Academy appointed her as a field agent, Catastrophe had to have the approval of several distinguished members of the organization. Like her, they all had Academy-approved code names but Catastrophe admitted that out of everyone, Knockout’s code name suit her the best.

As the preeminent Academy expert on hand-to-hand combat, it’s a given for Knockout to deliver, well, the knockouts but Catastrophe didn’t expect her to actually _be_ a knockout. First time she met her, Catastrophe couldn’t believe her luck: bare-fist sparring with a tall hot blonde? _Hell yes_. Her plan was to ask her out on a date when she finally managed to beat her and gain her approval.

Too bad it took Catastrophe’s entire energy just to dodge her punches.

“You fight like a _boy_ ,” Knockout complained, yawning. She didn’t look tired at all, even as Catastrophe lied panting in the mat. This was their sixteenth spar and Knockout’s sixteenth win.

“Shut up,” Catastrophe ground out with all the vitriol she could muster, though the impact lessened when you’re the one laying on the floor. “I would’ve won if you hadn’t cheated. You elbowed me.”

(It was partially true. Knockout did elbow her, but Catastrophe would’ve lost anyway. She was just too fast and too strong.)

“I’m sorry, are we in the World Championship of Judo or something? I don’t fucking think so. The Academy prepares its agents for real life fights and in real life they fight dirty. So get up and try me again.” Knockout pauses, smirking. “Or are you too weak to beat me?”

“Fuck _you,_ ” Catastrophe spat at her. Her body feels like breaking but nobody called her weak and got off without a few bruises. She got up and attacked.

“Correct your posture,” Knockout said, ducking to dodge a particularly pathetic left hook.

Catastrophe corrected her posture, angry at her for being right. She gave a go at her again with an improved (but still ineffective) right hook. Knockout deflected it with an effortless tilt of her head.

“Do you want to break your hand? Punch with your palm facing outward.”

Catastrophe gritted her teeth, but she adjusted her position and attacked again. This went on for several minutes: she would attack, Knockout would block it and bark criticisms, she would make the necessary adjustments, her technique would improve, her anger grew, she’d attack again, and the cycle repeated.

And then it happened.

Knockout was slowing; she was getting tired. Meanwhile, Catastrophe fed from her fury, relishing on the energy her anger gave her. Seeing Knockout starting to make blunders was also a powerful motivator. Catastrophe picked up her speed, slowly starting to overwhelm her opponent. Knockout was busy deflecting the onslaught and forgot to keep her guards up. There was an opening.

Catastrophe took it. She punched Knockout with a mean left hook and knocked her down with a swift kick. Catastrophe hooked their left leg together and pivoted, ending on top when they both fell on the floor.

“Who’s the weak one now?” Catastrophe grinned. It was real nice to look down on Knockout for a change.

Knockout let out a throaty laugh.

“Well, well,” she rasped. Her lips were split and there were a bit of blood on the corner of her mouth where Catastrophe punched her. She never looked more gorgeous than in this moment, bruised and bloodied and pinned down. “Looks like I’ll have to eat my words. Congratulations. You passed.”

Catastrophe smiled. Seventeenth time’s the charm, it seemed. She started to lean back and loosened her hold when Knockout roughly pulled her back down, kissing her.

She tasted like the salty metallic tang of blood and sweat. Catastrophe _loved_ it.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from "Kiss with a Fist" by Florence + The Machine.


End file.
